


Yes, You Can Hold My Hand If You Want To

by youren0tahero



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, based off a post i saw on tumblr, can u believe, kid!AU, they're babies!!!!!, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2119851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youren0tahero/pseuds/youren0tahero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Marco's first day at Trost Elementary he learns that Sasha's an artist, Connie's a crybaby, Jean doesn't know what freckles are, desserts buy you relationships and love isn't real until you chase someone around the playground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, You Can Hold My Hand If You Want To

**Author's Note:**

> While writing this I decided that pretty much anything I write for the SNK fandom (be it Jean x Marco or otherwise) will be in thanks to my friend, [Joss](http://5san.tumblr.com/). The title of the fic comes from the song "[Big Girls Don't Cry](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agrXgrAgQ0U)" by Fergie. This fic was inspired by a lovely [doodle](http://toutlefromage.tumblr.com/post/92762807258/just-a-quickie-jean-and-marco-as-kids-comic) I saw on tumblr. All mistakes in this fic are my own. Enjoy!

“Everyone, this is Marco,” Mr. Erwin said, gesturing to the small freckled boy who was hidden behind his legs. “Today is his first day at Trost Elementary, so I expect you all to be nice to him and make him feel welcome.”

“Hi Marco,” the class greeted in unison.

Marco shyly peeked out from behind his teachers legs, gazing at the crowd of students whose eyes were all focused on him. He had _never_ seen this many children gathered in one place before. Feeling a bit overwhelmed at the amount of eyes on him and scared to be in a brand new place without his mom, Marco went back to hiding behind Erwin’s legs.

“It’s okay, Marco,” Mr. Erwin assured him, ruffling his hair.

Marco looked up at his new teacher, his blue eyes warm and reassuring. Marco nodded and came out from behind Mr. Erwin. He waved to the crowd in front of him, who, in turn, waved back at the freckled boy before turning back to the activity Mr. Erwin had given them prior to Marco’s entrance.

“Let me take you to your seat,” Mr. Erwin offered, taking hold of Marco’s hand as he guided him towards the back of the room.

Marco’s seat, as it turned out, was at the end of a table that two other children already occupied. On the end opposite Marco sat a small girl with her brunette hair pulled back into a high ponytail on the top of her head. Seated in the middle of the table was a boy with buzz cut hair. Neither of the other two children looked up at Marco when he took his seat, both too absorbed in their coloring sheets.

Marco had not been given a coloring sheet to work on. Instead he paid attention to the other two children as they colored in their pictures. The girl colored with reckless abandon, not bothering to stay within the lines that threatened to confine her creativity. The boy, however, colored carefully in his attempts to make sure that absolutely no stray marks made their way outside of the thick black lines.

After quite some time, the girl looked up from her drawing and held it in front of her face. Her tongue stuck out from the corner of her mouth as she squinted her eyes and stared at her paper. She eventually slammed her paper back down on the table, leaning over to pick out a new crayon from the middle of the table. She noticed then that Marco had been staring at her.

“My name’s Sasha!” she announced. “I’m an artist.” She then went back to her sheet, pressing hard on the pink crayon as it moved across the page. When Sasha was done with the pink crayon, she went back to the pile placed in the middle of the table and grabbed a purple one. She furrowed her eyebrows upon noticing that Marco had _still_ been staring at her. “Don’t you want to color, Marco?” she asked, confused. Coloring time was Sasha’s favorite part of the whole day. She couldn’t fathom a reason why the freckled boy _wouldn’t_ want to color.

“Oh,” Marco murmured, his cheeks tingeing the same color as the pink crayon Sasha had only moments before. “Mr. Erwin didn’t give me a sheet.” Marco fidgeted in his seat. He figured that Mr. Erwin had done it on purpose, that Marco wasn’t _allowed_ to have a coloring sheet, and hadn't wanted to call his teacher out on it.

Sasha nodded her head. She gently put down the purple crayon and leaned across the table, bringing her hand up to the side of her mouth as if to hide the words she were about to say from anyone but Marco. “Let me show you how it’s done,” she whispered loudly.

Sasha pulled back from Marco and as she settled back into her seat, she winked. Sasha took in a deep breath before screaming _“MR. ERWIN!”_

The boy who had been seated in the middle jumped at Sasha’s sudden outburst, the crayon he had been holding in his hand sliding across the paper in the process. “Aw, man!” the boy shouted. He looked at the green mark that went outside of the lines and crumpled his paper up before throwing it to the floor. “You messed me up! _MR. ERWIN! SASHA MESSED ME UP!”_

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Connie!” Sasha hollered back.

The boy, Connie, stuck his tongue out at Sasha in retaliation. Sasha had only been seconds away from jumping across the table and attacking Connie when Mr. Erwin arrived, placing a large hand on Sasha’s small shoulder. “What seems to be the problem, Sasha?”

Sasha stood up then, shrugging Mr. Erwin’s hand off her shoulder. “Mr. Erwin!” she shouted, bringing her hands to rest on her hips as she scolded the older man. “How come you didn’t give Marco a coloring sheet?!”

Mr. Erwin looked over to Marco, who had been silent throughout the whole encounter. Marco quickly looked away from his teacher. He didn’t want Mr. Erwin to think that he had anything to do with Sasha’s accusation—he hadn’t known that Sasha would _yell_ at him. “I apologize, Marco,” Mr. Erwin said sincerely. “Let me go get you guys some more coloring sheets.”

When Mr. Erwin returned, Connie snatched the stack of sheets out of his hands and began to search through to find a new one. Connie decided on a drawing of a superhero—that, the more Marco looked at it, kind of looked like Mr. Erwin—before handing the stack to Marco.

Marco looked at every paper in the stack before eventually deciding on a picture of a flower. As Marco gathered all the colors he’d need for his picture, Connie stared at him with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Hey,” Connie said to him. Marco, however, figured that the boy had been talking to Sasha and did not answer. “Hey!” Connie repeated, poking Marco in the shoulder.

“Y-Yes, Connie?” Marco muttered.

“How come you chose the flower?” he asked.

Marco considered Connie’s question for a while, even bringing the sheet up to stare at it for a while before answering, “’Cause it’s pretty.”

Connie scoffed. “I thought only _girls_ liked flowers.”

Before Marco had a chance to reply to Connie, a purple crayon flew at the other boy’s head. “Ow!” Connie shouted, turning to glare at Sasha. “What did you do that for?!”

 _"’Cause,"_ Sasha replied. “Girls are _not_ the only ones who like pretty things. Don’t be mean to Marco just ‘cause he’s the only boy in the entire world with a brain.”

Connie rubbed at the spot the crayon had struck, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry Marco,” Connie pouted before returning to his coloring sheet.

* * *

Marco’s mother hadn’t known that the elementary school didn’t provide lunch for the children. She hadn’t been informed that parents were supposed to send a lunch _with_ their students. That’s why on Marco’s first day at Trost Elementary, he ended up having half of Sasha’s peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“You know, Marco,” Sasha began, food spewing out of her mouth as she talked with her mouth full. “You’re special.”

Marco’s eyes widened. He finished swallowing the bite of peanut butter and jelly that was in his mouth before asking “Why?”

“’Cause,” Sasha grinned before taking another bite from her sandwich. “I shared my food with you.”

“Hey!” Connie shouted, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “I thought you were _my_ girlfriend!”

Sasha shook her head violently, her nose scrunching up in distaste at the idea. “I’m not _anyone’s_ girlfriend. Boy’s are gross.”

Connie continued to pout before turning back to his superhero lunchbox. He pulled out a plastic baggie filled with cookies and bit one in half before turning to Marco. “Do you want a cookie, Marco?” Connie asked, holding out the open bag.

Sasha eyed the cookies, her mouth hanging open. “Oh, Connie,” Sasha said in a sing-song voice. She grinned before scooting her chair closer to his. “Aren’t you gonna give your _girlfriend_ some cookies?”

Connie furrowed his brow. “I thought that you broke up with me.”

“That was before I knew you had _cookies_ ," Sasha scoffed, as if her reasoning behind their reunion should have been obvious. She pressed a kiss to Connie’s cheek and held her hand out for a cookie.

Connie’s face turned a deep shade of red. He looked to Sasha, his eyes wide and awestruck. He smiled from ear to ear before he took Sasha’s hand in his. Her face scrunched up and she opened her mouth, about to protest before Connie held the open bag out to her. Her eyes sparkled as she stared at the full bag of cookies before taking one in her free hand and biting the cookie in half.

“Okay, kids!” Mr. Erwin shouted, clapping his hands together as he attempted to gain the attention of the group. “It’s time for recess outside with Mr. Levi’s class!”

Every child in the room screamed and hollered in excitement. Sasha grabbed the baggie of cookies out of Connie’s hand and ran out of the room, Connie immediately following her. Not because he wanted his cookies back, but because boyfriends were _supposed_ to chase their girlfriends around the play ground. _Everyone_ knew that.

Marco, having no friends to go play outside with, stayed behind and walked to the playground with Mr. Erwin. Once they made their way out of the building, Marco noticed that there was now twice the amount of children running around the playground. The thought of being alone, even while being within that huge crowd, made him nervous. Eventually, Marco realized that Mr. Erwin was making his way over to the only other adult in the field.

The man stood with one hand rested on his hips, the other clutched into the collar of another child’s shirt. The boy struggled against the man’s grip, but the man’s hold did not budge. He looked impassive, bored even, as the boy tried to fight his way away from the adult. Marco figured that this could only be Mr. Levi. “You’re not going anywhere, Kirschtein,” Mr. Levi scolded the child.

 _“Mr. Levi!”_ the boy whined. “I didn’t even do anything wrong! Why isn’t _Eren_ in time out?!”

“Because _Eren_ did not rip up _your_ coloring sheet and then proceed to throw the pieces in _your_ face,” Mr. Levi replied.

_"Yeah but Eren has a stupid face so I think he should be in trouble too!”_

Mr. Erwin laughed upon the sight. Marco had no idea how he could find the situation funny; Mr. Levi was terrifying and the boy looked as though he were struggling for his life. Marco hid behind Mr. Erwin’s legs once again.

“What’d the boy do this time?” Mr. Erwin asked, nodding towards the struggling child.

“Same shi—” Mr. Levi began, his expressionless face transforming into one of shock. His eyes widened and he looked down at the two children that were standing at his and Erwin’s feet. Erwin chuckled, knowing all too well about Levi's potty mouth. “ _Thing_ ,” Mr. Levi corrected himself. “He was doing the same _thing_ as always; he was messing with that Jaeger boy again.”

The two men remained silent then, staring out at the playground. The only sound was the grunts the boy Mr. Levi was holding on to made as he continued to fight for his freedom. Levi glanced down at Erwin’s feet, noticing the small freckled boy peeking out from behind his legs. “You got two shadows now, or what?” Levi grunted.

Erwin smiled and ruffled Marco’s hair. “It’s Marco’s first day today,” Mr. Erwin explained. “He’s just nervous, that’s all.”

Levi hummed and looked down at Marco, causing the boy to further hide behind Erwin. The boy who had only seconds ago been struggling to fight his way out of Levi’s hold now stilled. He was unable to see Marco as he hid behind Mr. Erwin’s legs, but that didn’t stop the boy’s attempts at catching a glimpse at the new kid.

“Marco, come here,” Mr. Levi ordered.

Marco peeked out from behind Erwin’s legs, but did not move towards Levi. The man scared Marco. He looked up at Mr. Erwin, silently pleading to him to get him out of having to go to Levi. Mr. Erwin laughed and got down on his haunches, attempting to be more at Marco’s eye level. “I know that Mr. Levi may _seem_ scary,” Erwin smiled, looking back at Levi who in turn rolled his eyes. “But, really, he’s just a teddy bear.”

A whack echoed through the air as Mr. Levi smacked Mr. Erwin upside the head, causing Marco to jump back. Marco could not ever recall having a teddy bear that had done _that_ to him.

“Come here,” Mr. Levi repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Marco decided that he did not want Mr. Levi to hit him the way he had Erwin and slowly made his way over. He stood in front of the other adult, the boy who had once struggled in Levi’s grip now still as he stared at Marco with his eyebrows furrowed. “This is Jean,” Levi began, tugging on the collar of the other boy’s shirt as if Marco hadn’t known who he had been referring to. “Jean got in trouble during class today and isn’t allowed to go on the playground with the rest of the kids. However, because it’s your first day and you’re here all by yourself, you and Jean can go play by the basketball court since there’s no one else over there. You don’t have to play with him if you don’t want to, of course.”

Jean’s eyes widened upon hearing of the possibility of his freedom. He immediately signaled to Marco to say yes by nodding his head up and down rapidly. Marco mulled it over for several seconds before murmuring, “O-okay.” In the end, Marco hadn’t done it so he wouldn’t have to hang out with the teachers anymore, but because he felt bad for the boy who had been a prisoner in Levi’s grip.

 As soon as Levi let go of Jean’s shirt, he grabbed Marco’s hand and ran with him over to the basketball court.

“If I catch you anywhere near that playground, Kirschtein, you’re not going to play on it for a month!” Mr. Levi called out after the boy in warning.

When they got to the basketball court, Jean let go of Marco’s hand and ran over to the basketball hoop. He picked up a basketball that resided on the ground near the hoop and turned to make his way back over to Marco. Once he was within several feet of Marco, he stopped.

Jean didn’t say anything, simply stood there and stared at Marco. He held the basketball in front of him with both hands, his eyes narrowing as he took in the other boy. Marco began to fidget nervously, waiting for the moment when Jean would finally tell him what he was staring at. Eventually, Marco couldn’t take it anymore. “Why are you staring at me?” he blurted.

Jean dropped the basketball and closed the distance between him and Marco. Jean’s nose was only inches from his face when he asked, “What’s on your face?”

Marco pulled back, hands running across his face. “What?” he asked. He could feel his eyes widen as he continued to run his hands across his skin, desperately trying to take off whatever Jean had been staring at. _What was on his face?!_

“Those spots,” Jean elaborated. He pointed a finger to Marco’s cheeks. “What are those _spots_ on your _face_?”

“The-They’re freckles,” Marco answered. Jean stepped back out of Marco’s personal space, but still continued to stare at the brown dots sprinkled across his cheekbones. “They’re really ugly, I know. But I’ve tried to get rid of them before and they won’t go away.” Marco looked down at the ground, no longer able to look Jean in the eyes.

Marco thought back to the first time he ever truly noticed his freckles. He had been in the bathroom, washing his hands that were caked in dirt when he noticed the dark spots littering his face. He figured he had just gotten dirt on his face after playing outside all day and attempted to scrub them off with a bath towel. When his mother came home and found him in the bathroom, he had explained to her what he was trying to do. She had smiled at him and took the rag out of his hands.

“Honey,” she had said. She held Marco’s face in her hands and rubbed her thumbs across his cheekbones. “They’re called freckles. Nothing’s wrong with you, sweetheart. They’re just like constellations on your face; they’re skin stars.”

Even after all her efforts in trying to comfort him, Marco still thought they just looked like dirt.

“I like ‘em,” Jean declared, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning at Marco.

“R-Really?” Marco stuttered. He had no idea how anyone could like anything he had hated so much about himself.

“Well, yeah,” Jean replied, as if the answer should have been obvious. “I think they’re really pretty.”

Marco felt heat flood his cheeks. He looked up at Jean bashfully, being met with a smile from the other boy. Jean began to pick up the basketball he had dropped in his haste to examine Marco’s face when Mr. Erwin and Mr. Levi announced the end of recess.

“Ah, man!” Jean groaned, throwing the ball back to the ground in a fit. He let out an annoyed sigh before grabbing Marco’s hand and walking with him back towards their teachers.

The crowd of children began to separate into two different groups—one in front of Mr. Levi, and one in front of Mr. Erwin. Before Marco could begin to make his way towards Connie and Sasha—who, much to Sasha’s dismay, were once again holding hands—in Mr. Erwin’s group, Jean stopped him by grabbing hold of his forearm.

“I’m not gonna fight with Eren all day tomorrow so that way we can actually _play_ on the playground.”

Marco nodded his head and smiled. Jean returned the smile before throwing his arms around the freckled boy, hugging him close.

“We’re gonna be best friends, okay?” Jean asked, as if Marco _really_ had a say in the matter.

Marco nodded once again. “Okay.”

* * *

The next day at school during coloring time, Marco nearly knocked Mr. Erwin over once he made it to their table. Erwin hadn’t even had the chance to put the stack of colorless pictures down before Marco snatched it out of his hand. He hadn't wanted Sasha or Connie to take a picture that he might have wanted. He went through every picture in the pile until he finally decided on a picture of a butterfly. He handed the stack of papers to Connie and immediately got started on making his pretty butterfly even _prettier_ by adding color to it.

Marco had been so absorbed in the coloring of his butterfly, that lunch time came as if in the blink of an eye. Marco’s mother now knew that he was required to bring a lunch with him to school and had provided him with both a lunch and a pretty awesome lunchbox to carry it in.

When Sasha saw that Marco had brought his own lunch, she let out a loud sigh of relief. “ _Good_ ,” she told him. “We’re friends, Marco. But food is my _best friend_.”

When Erwin had called for recess several minutes later, Marco had not even _considered_ staying behind like he had done the previous day. Instead, Marco grabbed the finished coloring page off of the table and ran outside. When Marco had finally made his way outside, he hadn’t seen Jean near or around the playground. Marco ducked his head and turned around to go stand next to Mr. Erwin and Mr. Levi, figuring that Jean had ditched him for the friends he had before recess yesterday.

“Marco!” a voice shouted behind him. Marco turned around and found Jean standing on the edge of the sandbox, jumping and waving his hand in the air to catch his friend’s attention. “Marco! Over here!”

Marco smiled and began to run towards Jean, almost getting knocked to the ground on his way over to the sandbox.

“Watch out!” a tall, dark haired boy shouted, giggling and looking over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna catch me, Reiner!”

Another short, stout boy with blonde hair, Reiner, ran after the taller boy. “I’m gonna get you, Bertl!” he yelled after him, a smile plastered across his face. “I’m gonna catch you!”

After both the boys had passed Marco, and he was sure he was no longer in danger of being knocked on his butt, he made his way over to Jean.

“That’s Reiner and Bertholdt. They’re in my class,” Jean explained. Marco nodded and watched with Jean as Reiner tackled Bertholdt to the ground. Once the boys had caught their breath, Bertholdt hopped up to his feet and began chasing Reiner now. The roles had been reversed.

Jean turned his gaze towards Marco now. His eyes were not looking into Marco’s own, but at his cheeks. “I’m just making sure they’re still there,” Jean explained. “I’ve never had a friend with freckles before, so I’m not really sure how they work.”

“They don’t ever go away,” Marco informed him.

Jean let out a loud sigh. “ _Good,”_ he replied, relieved by the news. His head tilted to the side as he stared down at the paper in Marco had clutched against his chest. “Whatcha got there?” he wondered.

“It-It’s for you,” Marco replied.

Jean’s eyes lit up. “No way! Lemme see!” he hollered, snatching the paper out of Marco’s hands. His eyes widened as he looked down at the butterfly. “It’s so…” Jean began, running his fingers over the texture of the crayon. “It’s so _pretty_.”

Marco felt the same heat that spread across his face the day before return. He looked down at the ground for a moment, unable to meet Jean’s eyes. When Marco looked up he found Jean carefully folding the drawing and putting it into his shorts pocket. “I’m gonna keep it forever,” Jean told him. Marco stood in front of Jean, dumbstruck. “Now,” Jean smiled, patting Marco’s back. “Let’s build a sand castle.”

* * *

After several weeks at Trost Elementary, Marco had begun to notice something.

Sasha only wanted to hold Connie’s hand when he packed a dessert with his lunch.

It hadn’t matter to Sasha _what_ the dessert was, as long as she was being given _something_ sweet.

One day as Marco got ready for school and his mother packed his lunch, he had asked her if she could pack two brownies in his lunch so he could share with a friend. Come lunch time that day, Marco had to fight Sasha off once she caught sight of the extra brownie in his lunchbox. Connie ended up saving Marco due to the fact that he had cookies _and_ apple sauce that day.

When Erwin announced that it was time for recess, Marco grabbed the two brownies from his lunchbox and made his way to the playground. He found Jean on the jungle gym, almost to the top, when he arrived. “Hey, Marco!” Jean shouted in excitement, hopping off his perch on the jungle gym.

“Here,” Marco murmured, holding one of the brownies out to him.

“For me?” Jean asked, staring at the brownie. No one from school had ever shared their _dessert_ with him before.

Marco nodded, handing the brownie over to Jean. “I asked my momma to pack an extra brownie today so I could give one to you,” he explained. Upon Marco’s explanation, Jean’s face lit up and he snatched the brownie out of his hands. Several minutes passed with Marco nibbling on his brown while Jean chomped his down. “Hey, Jean?” Marco asked.

“Yeah?” Jean replied, brownie crumbs spewing out and trailing down his face as he talked with his mouthful of food.

“Do you- Do you wanna hold my hand?” Marco asked, the now familiar heat returning to his face.

Jean popped the last bit of brownie into his mouth. “Of course I do, silly,” he replied, reaching down between the two of them and interlacing their fingers.

That day as Marco stared down at his tan freckled hand intertwined with Jean’s, he realized why Connie was so sure to pack extra desserts every day.

* * *

Bringing Jean an extra dessert had become somewhat of a routine. Every day Marco would bring Jean an extra dessert and, every day, when Jean was finished Marco would ask to hold his hand. Every day, Jean replied yes and slotted their fingers together. It was a routine Marco was fond of, and he found himself looking forward to recess even more than he had before he and Jean started holding hands.

At first the excitement was just because he was eager to hang out with his friend, now it was to feel the fluttering in his stomach as he felt Jean’s palm pressed against his. Marco remembers thinking one day, as they sat on the swings with their hands connected between them, that there was no better feeling than it.

On one particular day, Marco opened his lunchbox to find that there was no dessert inside of it. Marco took everything out of the box and held it upside down, shaking it out just in case his mother had hidden the desserts for whatever reason. After several minutes of shaking, Marco accepted the fact that his mother must have forgotten to pack his dessert that day. Along with that, he accepted the fact that he would not be able to hold Jean’s hand.

When Mr. Erwin announced it was time for recess, Marco took his time as he made his way out to the playground. He was normally so eager to run to Jean so he can hurry and finish the dessert Marco brought them and they could hold hands, but the reminder that there would be no hand holding that day loomed over Marco like a dark cloud.

Marco finally made his way to his and Jean’s meeting place under the slide and sat down on the ground.

“Hi, Marco!” Jean shouted, ecstatic to see his freckled friend.

“Hi,” Marco murmured. He was unable to look Jean in the eye and instead began to pick blades of grass out of the ground in order to distract himself.

“Ahem,” Jean cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. Marco looked to his friend then, making sure than Jean hadn’t been choking on something before turning back to the balding patch of earth he had been picking at. “ _Ahem,”_ Jean repeated when Marco hadn’t replied.

Marco let out a sigh and turned towards his friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you a dessert today,” Marco apologized. “My momma forgot to pack some.”

Jean’s face softened and he scooted closer to Marco. “That’s alright, Marco,” he replied, smiling at his friend. “I don’t care about the desserts.”

Marco nodded and let out a loud sigh. It was the worst day he had had in his time at Trost Elementary and, with Jean sitting next to him and Marco unable to hold his hand, it was getting even worse.

Jean smacked his lips and stood up, placing his hands on his hips before he looked down at Marco. “Well?” he asked Marco, his foot tapping impatiently against the ground.

“Well, what?” Marco asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He had already told Jean he didn’t have a dessert for him that day. What did he want from him?

“ _Well_ ,” Jean repeated. “Aren’t you gonna ask to hold my hand?”

“But…” Marco began. “But I didn’t bring us a dessert today.”

“So you only wanna hold my hand when you bring me a dessert?” Jean asked, appalled, before turning around to face away from Marco.

“No!” Marco shouted, hopping up to his feet. “I wanna hold your hand all the time, Jean. I just-I didn’t think you would want to hold my hand if I didn’t give you a dessert first.

“Why not?” Jean murmured, turning to Marco with one eyebrow raised.

“Because Sasha doesn’t like Connie unless he gives her cookies,” Marco replied.

Jean let out an exasperated sigh and turned towards his freckled friend. “That’s because Sasha doesn’t like _Connie,_ Marco,” Jean explained. “Sasha likes _food_.”

“So… You like me?” Marco asked, bewildered.

“Duh!” Jean shouted. He raised his hands and stomped his foot to the ground as if the actions emphasized his point. “I _like-like_ you, Marco!”

Marco stood still, unable to form words. He grinned and walked up to Jean, linking their fingers together. “I like-like you, too, Jean,” Marco replied before standing up on his tip toes to press a kiss to Jean’s cheek. And, for the first time since Marco’s been at Trost Elementary, it’s _Jean_ whose cheeks tinge a shade of pink rather than Marco.

“So... Are we boyfriends like Reiner and Bertl now?” Jean wondered aloud.

Marco nodded his head. _Of course_ they were boyfriends. Marco wouldn’t kiss just anybody, you know. Jean smiled then, finally giving Marco a peck on the cheek in return. They walked out from underneath the slide with their connected hands swinging between them. They looked at all their friends running around the playground.

Jean saw Reiner chasing Bertholdt across the field and grinned at his freckled boyfriend. “Hey, Marco?” Jean asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna play tag?”

Marco smiled and nodded his head. “You’re it!” he yelled, tapping Jean on the shoulder before he ran away.

“Hey!” Jean shouted and immediately followed after him. “I’m gonna get you, Marco!”

The two boys spent the rest of recess chasing each other around the playground, because everyone knows that that’s what boyfriends are _supposed_ to do.


End file.
